


Symphony of Silence

by StrideeOut



Category: elsanna - Fandom
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Multi, Murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-23 20:35:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16625981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrideeOut/pseuds/StrideeOut
Summary: [Elsanna] [Non-incest] [Modern AU]- "So, I murder for business and she models for fortune. Then please, explain to me how she easily executed my soul yet I find it hard to capture her in a polaroid!" An Anna-centric tale, re-telling a story of a murderess attempt at quenching her thirst for something far more appetizing than a cold platter of foreign vengeance. [Further warning included within the fiction, located at the very beginning. Please heed them!] - A remastered work of "Home: I Remember".





	1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER**

* * *

 

The author, **StrideeOut** , has acknowledged that they own nothing but the story itself.  
Frozen belongs to Disney along with every character in it.  
Furthermore, any mentioned Disney and Pixar characters within this story belongs to their respective owners.  
  
**This is a work of fiction.**  
Although its form is that of an autobiography, it is not one.  
Space, time and ideologies has been rearranged to suit the convenience of the story, and with the exception of public figures along with movie characters, any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental unless mentioned otherwise.  
Such as the mention of certain long-standing institutions, agencies and public offices.  
The opinions expressed are those of the characters and should not be confused with the author’s.

The actions, reactions and behaviour done by the characters involving certain issues were made not based on reality.  
Do not read this tale as a guide to how you should judge a person based on their reaction to narcotics,  
mental issues and so forth.

  
 No malicious intend were taken into consideration upon creating this tale.

* * *

 

**WARNING**

**Symphony of Silence**  contains (though sometimes not explicitly) written words that mentions the following topics:

_ Strong language / Sexual interactions / Non-Consensual Conduct/ Gore / Homicide / Carnage_

_Narcotics / Drug abuse / LGBT relations / Political views _

Further warning will be placed at the beginning of a chapter should  
it contain any mention of the listed topics.

If the audience find such topics hard to read, please look away and fancy yourselves another tale.  
The author is not responsible for any mental effect(s) that may be induced to the readers upon indulging into this work of fiction.

**YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED**

* * *

 

**AUTHOR’S NOTE  
( _Hey you_ )**

My most sincerest of apologies should there be any mistake in / wrong use of:

_ Spelling / Grammar / Phrases / Terminologies / Slangs / Punctuation / etc. _

Please understand that English is not my first language.  
Yet, I wish to contribute to the community with this fiction of mine in a langauge that most will understand.

This work is what I call a “Blind Vision”.  
It means, I have a basic idea written down on how the story will go. But all subject to change, of course.  
Along with that, I have an ending in mind.

However, I have no idea which character(s) will develop what personality(ies), who will be stronger, who will go down, who will die, live or suffer. I am as blind to all that as you are.  
So, bear with me as we go with the flow of the story.

Mentions of narcotics and mental issues are made throughout this story.  
I do not have an extended knowledge on how drugs would make people behave.  
Nor do I know what sort of outcome would come from someone suffering mental issues.  
Please pardon me for any mistake made on these points, the reality of it has been altered  
to suit the story better.

Join me in this ride?  
\- _S.O_

* * *

 

**FICTION TAGS**

Anna-centric. g!p Anna. SerialKiller!Anna. SuperModel!Elsa. Non-Incest. Slowburn. Modern-AU.


	2. Chapter 2

 

**[SoS] Anna Østberg**

* * *

 

**Anna Østberg**

Fall

Connecticut, United States of America

Østberg Mansion

* * *

_Oh, gods. Why did I agree to this?!_

_Oh geez, I don't know, maybe because you haven't got a choice?!_

The voices in my head argue with one another. Clammy hands worry themselves into knots at the tension in the room, it was as thick as a latina woman I swear! Sounds of pen scratching against paper filled the butter-thick air.

The ticking of the clock filled the silent air along with the rhythmic tapping of my foot against the concrete floor, the sound of my rapidly beating heart reverberating through my hearing rendering me deaf to the world apart from the three aforementioned sound along with the constant scratching of pen against paper. It was maddening.

I made quite the audible gulping noise drawing the other person's attention from their paper towards me. I peered my eyes at them silently hoping the stare they gave me was not one of murderous intent. Another gulp. They flipped the pen and clicked it close before setting the stationary down, resting their arms on the table fully then intertwining their fingers. Their posture relaxed a bit and, if I'm not mistaken there, it would appear their eyes grew more... kind?

A small smile played at their lips, "Relax," they said, as if such a thing could be achieved in this situation. The nerve!

"I'm only here to talk,"

"Ah, are you?" I retorted quickly before I could stop myself, "I thought you were here to exact revenge by planting that pen into my neck." I tapped my fingers on the cold metal table taking two deep breaths when I saw them raised an eyebrow. "S-sorry, I'm just really  _really_  nervous."

They smiled again, bigger this time as if to say that they understood where I'm coming from.

"No harm done," here they picked up the pen again scribbling a short sentence onto the paper before addressing me once more, focus fully on me. "Now then, I'll be spending a few of days with you, a couple hours at a time, and in those times I hope to learn more from you. I do not trust the details they give out on the newspapers and broadcasted on TV." They waved a hand and scrunched up their nose as if in disgust.

I chuckled nervously, "Well, you can get the authentic version right here." I spoke cheerily, quite a contrast to the surrounding atmosphere.

"That's what I'm hoping for," they smiled once more, "Now, why don't you tell me all about it. From the beginning, take your time." They nod their head, pen once more at the ready to jot down every little detail I'm about to disclose to this person.

"Okay," I nodded, gulping once more, "The beginning, the beginning." I took another deep breath, hold it in for a few seconds whilst closing my eyes to calm my nerves down. I let loose the breath in a single long exhale opening my eyes to reveal determination embedded into two teal pools.

"Here goes."

* * *

They're at it again.  
How could I forget, it was an occurence that repeated itself nearly every night.  
I remember forming into a ball, the smallest frightened ball I could manage. My body all but tensed each time an echo of deafening noise reveberated in my skull. Two small hands enclosed my ears as tightly as my eyes were shut, yet I still could perceive each word vomitted by my parents- who were separated by a thick wooden door that shielded me from the chaos outside- doubtlessly standing in the hallway.

The noises grew louder. Dear  _god_ , it grew so much louder and I knew their angry footsteps were heading towards my room. My safety was threatened. I prayed to whoever was listening to let them just run pass my door and into their own room. When I heard the loudest thud coming from outside followed by a scream I all but hoped that not one of them has commited a heinous crime, for a moment my eyes flew open and grew wide. I didn't know what was more frigtening: their endless shouts or the deafening silence.

One year and a half.

One year and a half they've been doing this, over what? God knows.  
The only thing I'm aware of is the absence of light that once shone in their eyes. The romance is definitely gone, vanished- even- entirely from their very being. No more were the laughter and friendly chitter-chatter at the dinner table, forget the giggles we shared when we watched a funny movie together, I couldn't remember the last time we played outside on our overly large backyard. Joyful time was practically non-existent.

There were moments were I could recall the sound of their mirthful laughter, hugs were the most favoured method of displaying their affection along with a couple kisses here and there. Now, the only physical contact they made with each other were the violent kind. Slaps, smacks and punches were among them. Some days I grew tired of their bickering, taking things into my own hand I would heave myself into the fire, my riskful attempt at peace-making has earned me a handful of black eyes and bruises along with a bigger fire to burn between them. I didn't learn my lesson though, when feeling brave I would get myself in between them. I didn't mind getting hurt, not when I thought there was even the slightest chance at saving what little connection they have with one another.

Boy, was I naive.

They didn't say anything about this in the fairytales, they said nothing about blood or scars in the books. Nothing I ever read up or watch could ever prepare me for the war happening inside a place I once call home. They promised a happily ever after and I got the ditch of a family that belongs in one of those police shows about abused victims that I once saw on TV with my father. Of course I ran off to the safety of my room and the comfort of Disney movies when I heard the first gunshot, earning a laugh from my father at my expense. I know they're throwing punches and yelling profanities at each other but I know they still love one another, deep down I know that they do too. They're just too stubborn to see it, too busy marring the other with new scars and bruises to pay attention to what lies  _way_  beneath the hatred in their hearts.

But what do I know.

I was merely four.

It was a few more horrid seconds of silence before a small yelp escaped me as I heard the door to my room creak open, I all but slammed by eyes shut once more. Tears stung in my eyes, a few droplets made it out falling silently onto the bedsheet, I didn't hear any footsteps but I knew that there was a presence walking ever closer- now standing to my left. I heard her before I see her, a sob wracked my being as she hummed that same damn song that brings me comfort. The very same one she always sang when I woke up startled from a nightmare or the thunderstorm just gets too loud for poor young me to handle. I remember feeling soft, warm hands caress my head before pulling me in close for a hug, I snuggled into her body whimpering softly prompting her to hum louder as she drew her hand comfortingly up and down my back.

With my eyes still firmly shut I drew my hand away from my ears to envelope my mother in a fierce hug.  
Despite the pain in her heart, evident by the occasional sob coming out from her, she still finds the strength to be there for me. I admire her tremendously, she was selfless to a great extend.

Above the angelic melodies coming from her I could make out a grumbling voice echoing from the hallway, my father had made a last attempt at breaking down my mother further by calling her a worthless dog before slamming the door- to whichever room that was- shut, prompting me to let out another whimper as I tightened my hold on my mother.

She responded with a quiet "Shh," before opting to change her hums to actual singing.  
She slowly lulled me to sleep, the last thing I heard being her voice finishing the song that I'll never tire of hearing.

" _In dreams you will lose your heartaches,  
Whatever you wish for you keep..."_

* * *

 

**Anna Østberg**

Summer

Connecticut, United States of America

Multicultural Magnet School

* * *

Everyone have a safe haven. I'd like to welcome you to mine.

Bridgeport's very own Multicultural Magnet School.

When others loathe at the idea of returning to school I actually look forward to it.  
It was a brief daily escape from the constant barage of maelstorm at home.  
Can I even still call it that?

At 6 years old I learned to weave my way around the brawl- be it verbal or physical- happening under the roof of the Østberg mansion. As with many mansions there were multitude of empty rooms just waiting for an occupant to utilize it. Worry not, dear ghostly chambers! I, Anna Østberg, shall put all of you to good use!

Though not truly hidden, these rooms became my favoured hidding spot. Whenever I hear the menacing sound emitted from my father I would drop whatever I was doing and made a mad dash towards the farthest side of the mansion, entering a room and slamming the door shut. It almost always works to block out the hellish situation outside. Almost.

Right now, I wish to tell you about  _my_  first day of school. Exciting!  
After bidding farewell to my mother and hopping along to my intended classroom, I stood at the back of the class bouncing on the ball of my feet with my hands clasped in front of me. I was excited! Nervous, but excited nonetheless. Unfamiliar faces started to fill the room and a lone adult enters with the brightest smile on her face.

The last of the parents had just left the room, that was when the teacher addresses us.

"Good morning, you lil' nuggets!" Her friendly eyes scanned the room to each and every student present before her, standing around waiting eagerly for her next words. When her attention reached mine I excitedly reached up as high as I can and wave to her, to which she giggled and waved back. "Such a lively group I have here!" She exclaimed, moving forward as she does.

Upon reaching a certain boy with dark brown hair she crouched low to meet his eyes, dainty fingers reaches towards his cheeks to wipe away the tears that painted the round face. "There's no need to be afraid," she offered him a gentle smile, "We're all friends here, no one's gonna harm you. Now, smileee!" It took him a second to do what she told him to, she stood right back up with quiet laughter when he accomplished the simple task. "Very good," she praised, "Now," once again her attention drew around the room at the other expectant students, "What are we standing around for? Let's get you all seated, right away!"

* * *

For a little bit of fun on the first day, our teacher, Ms. Alice Marchen was her name, gave us a task to create kites!  
So there we were, huddled around our own would be masterpieces in the school's great hall. We laughed and chatted with our new friends in all our glitter covered faces, make-up of paints and glues glory.

Nearly done now, I was about to put the finishing touches to my kite when I realized I didn't have the proper material to complete the task at hand. Thus I left my station, hoping no one would break my creation, to fetch the missing item. I looked left to right, seeing if anybody has what I was looking for. My eyes lit up when I spotted just the right thing sitting next to another redheaded girl, her tongue was poking out of her lips slightly and her brows were furrowed in deep concentration. In her hand was a turqoise coloured gel pen.

I marveled at her handiwork, it was rather impressive!  
She'd be quite the artist, I could tell!

"Hi!" I greeted rather loudly, making the girl jump. Oops, hopefully the startled action didn't cost her a ruined art. I mouthed "sorry" before striding over to her cautiously as though she would run away if I get too close.

"Can I borrow that thingy please?" I said pointing towards a tube of brown paint sitting lamely next to her. Then it dawned on me, "Oh! I don't think I see you in Ms. Marchen's get-to-know hour. Were you late? I hope you didn't get into trouble, but how could you it's only the first day! I'm Anna! What's your name?"

The girl I was speaking to blinked her eyes at me for a few seconds before forming a wide smile of her own, "Hi Anna! Yes, I was late." She giggled at that, "But that's my sister's fault for taking too long putting paint on her face. Oh! My name's Ariel. Nice to meet you!"

Roughly around 2 to 3 weeks later I invited Ariel over to my house to complete our math homework together, the promise of freshly baked goods along with playtime never cease to persuade children into doing their tasks.

The school bell rang a sign of the day's end. I was waiting for my personal driver to arrive and pick us up when I saw a flash of white just down the street, I looked up to the clear sky thinking it was a thunder but saw no thunder clouds, not a speck it was a beautiful day.

The flash happened again. I squinted my eyes trying to figure out this incredible phenomenon and I saw a large group of people that appears to be surrounding something fascinating. My child like curiosity were triggered I wanted to go there and find out just what piques the interest of these people.

That was the time when a familiar white BMW came into view and pop goes my driver opening the door for me and Ariel. My eyes were fixated on the scene behind the car as it drove off and I continued to stare for as long as I still can see it.

"What do you think happened there?" I turned my head towards Ariel who shifted in her seat so that she could look behind her.

"You mean the crowd near the school?" I nodded looking at her expectantly.

"Oh, I heard some teachers and parents say that there was a kid from school that got crashed by a car. His name was Junaf or Donaf or something like that."

The whole car trip was a blur but I remember we were conversing about a certain topic that lies between "Cupcakes vs Muffins" and "Who gets to be 'it' first". Just a whole lot of children bollocks.

When we arrived at our destination I peeked my head in just to make sure whether or not my parents were fighting again, I was quite surprised to hear silence. I asked my driver where they could be his simple answer was that my father was out of town for three days and mother was somewhere in the overly large mansion.

Quickly, before anything comes up, I dragged Ariel to the west side of the wing where it was most quiet. Yes, I knew that my father was not present but I couldn't take my chances. Along the way I had to constantly remind Ariel to hush fearing someone might hear, though I'm quite unsure what sort of trouble that would give us given that my father was absent, whilst trying to suppress my own giggles as well.

A deep sigh of relief was released when I silently closed the door to my room.

We both shared a knowing giggle before disappearing between the mountains of dolls that accompanied our study time. The homework didn't take long to finish, we were completing it with glee.

After changing out clothes into a more comfortable ones we pack our homework and played with the dolls, moments later my mother enters the room with a tray of freshly baked cookies in hand.

She looked very tired, I could see newly made wounds and scars on her. I remember staring at them until her soft hand caressed my cheek, I was at the edge of crying again when she reminded me that Ariel was waiting. She waved a cookie at my face and I dragged her inside to meet my new friend.

As any little girl would do we played tea parties. When my mother and Ariel were engaged in a conversation using their respective dolls and overly exaggerated English accent I stopped and took a moment to watch them.

My mother looked more relaxed and there were actual glint of amusement in her eyes, the ones that I thought she had lost forever. I couldn't help the grin that threatened to split my face in half, she looked so happy and at ease. What a refreshing change to the years of abuse that my father had put her through. Even I know what pain was before I could put a name to it.

Needless to say, I would invite Ariel to come more often. The day ends with a good note.

* * *

 " _Childhood should be carefree, playing in the sun; not living a nightmare in the darkness of the soul."  
_\- Dave Pelzer,  _A Child Called "It"_

* * *

 

_-End Transmission-_

* * *

_**Hey you,** _

My oh my, it's been a while.  
Oh how I've missed this little adventure of mine.  
It's upsetting when life gets in the way of the things you love doing.  
Though 4 years has past, my love for this pairing has never died.  
So here I brought to you, a remastered version of the tale I've birthed 5 years ago.  
Do leave a review to help me progress along!

Cheers loves.  
**- _S.O_**


	3. Trick N' Treat

**[** **SoS** **] Trick n' Treat**

* * *

**Anna Østberg**

Fall. Halloween

Connecticut, United States of America

The Neighbourhood & Østberg Mansion

* * *

By nightfall the ghouls comes out to play.

My gaze fell upon the darkened surrounding, the street lamps and various ghastly illuminated decor providing dim lighting on this hallow night. It sets the mood appropriately. The neighborhood lit up with the festivities as all maners of ghoulish ornaments struck fear to the children and awe to the adults, some houses looks genuinely haunted. Though the topic surrounding the holiday was a grim one, children's joyful laughter could be heard wherever one would go.

My neighborhood takes holidays seriously.

Dressed up in a simple green suit and hat, along with a fairy perched upon my shoulder, I looked like the perfect gender-bended Peter Pan. Courtesy of my talented mother. I was happily skipping down a pathway headed towards another house when I heard the rushed pitter-patter of tiny footsteps after me, next thing I heard were the shrill sound of a young girl calling out for my name.

Naturally, I turned around and nearly doubled down in laughter had I not have my hands over my mouth to contain what would have been a robust laugh. Over a short distance away came quite a sight to behold, a hobbling and wobbling giant blue-yellow fish with a pumpkin bucket attached over its mouth rushing towards me comically swaying right to left. Heaven knows where she procured that costume from.

"You're laughing at me." Came the comment from the panting, pouting redhead. "You don't like my costume?" Once my laughter did die down, and boy did it took me quite a while to calm down, I reached out and hugged the overgrown fish. "I love it. It's just so big and silly looking." Ariel made a move that would seem the flounder was nuzzling me.

"Thanks. I like yours too! You look pretty in it!"

We knocked on the doors of houses after houses, pumped up by adrenaline and joy we nearly went out to go to the next neighbourhood without our parent's consent. Luckily though a parent stopped us before we got too far.

The night goes on repeat, minus the trying-to-escape-to-another-neighbourhood of course.

It was nearly 10.30 pm when I heard my mother calling my name; she had somehow found me in the ocean of children and parents. I ran up to her bidding my farewell to the vivacious flounder and we made our way home. My mother put up a sign at our door that reads something along the line of "No longer accepting Trick-or-Treater" or something similar, apologies I couldn't quite remember.

It was every child's dream to bathe themselves in a pool of sweets and treats, well- it was mine at least. Thus you must understand my excitement when I all but dump out the contents of my bucket onto the otherwise empty dinning table to find a mountain of chocolates, biscuits, candies and every kind of tooth-breaking treats. Mama told me I couldn't have it all in one night, but promised to store away what I wasn't allowed to eat for another day.

"Go and get changed, sweetie. Put that bucket by your nightstand and come down, you've missed dinner." She softly command me, to which I happily obliged after placing all the sweets back into the bucket.

Dinner was simple, I requested last night's leftover steak with a glass of refreshing cold chocolate milk, if only to quickened the meal so I could enjoy my raid without worry. I guess I wasn't quick enough.

My cheek were puffed up mid-chew when an ominous, curiosity inducing sound made it's presence directly above me. I was far too busy satiating my hunger to give it the time of day- or night, I s'pose- however my mother apparently wasn't. She turned her tired eyes skyward with a look of clear concern painted on her face, I didn't welcome that look. The slow turn of her head to look at me with a sad smile now stretched thinly across her once calm face sent dreadful feeling that spread like wildfire its origin being my heart and was not showing any sign that it would stop until the ashen remains consumed my body.

Leaving behind her half touched dinner – and perhaps ignoring her own hunger too – my mother walked around the table tussling my hair as she went past me towards the stairs walking at a leisurely pace looking very much lethargic. My little confused mind instantly knew that the shift of mood on this quiet dinner was caused by the monster residing inside the house.

Not long after her departure there came a thump. Though muffled, a loud one nonetheless.

The noise sounded like a hollowed piece of plastic has made contact with a hard surface. That single noise alone brought a feeling of unease within me, I solicited the help of the house servant to move my current eating situation to the living room where I could drown out the anonymous sounds from reaching my ears with the happier tunes of cartoons.

It lasted for about 20 minutes or so, my dinner long devoured, before my hypnotic trance set by the motion picture flashing before my eyes were broken by the collosal shout coming from upstairs, it was as if the earth shattering booming voice was wrenched free from hell's hold and tossed into the mortal realm with all the power it's realm master has. Naturally the unholy bellow of the beast yielded a powerful yelp from me as I scamperred about trying to find a hiding place.

To say I was scared would be an understatement of the year, a part of me wants to remain glued to the safety that is the back of the couch I was crouched behind. However, there's another part of me screaming to get out of hiding and face the demon head on for I knew the consequences should I keep the devil waiting any longer than necessary. Thus I marched upstairs, with thundering heart, determined to keep my suffering at bay by complying immediately.

" _Anna!_ " There was a note of threat the second time my name was blasted out which quickened my haste in search for the man, a quick look into his bedroom proves that my initial guess had been wrong. But just as the sound of rhythmic tapping of foot-to-floor suggests I was on the right floor, on the right wing and only a few meters shy of meeting my doom. It appears my father has settled himself in my room. Approaching the room felt like entering the death-row cell, a god-awful air of dread seems to cyclone itself around me creating a suffocating air to breathe in.

A quick lookabout confirms my suspicion that mother was nowhere to be seen, much to my displease, with his back turned to me he couldn't see that I was approaching. The devil took another breath seemingly to begin another bout of shout for me when I stopped him with a quiet call, it was barely above a whisper but apparently loud enough for him to hear. He turned around then, revealing a deep scowl upon his features. The colour of his face nearly rival that of the jack-o-lantern bucket he had firmly grasped in his paw, his knuckles were white clenching so tightly on the handle as if fearing that its content would fly away from his possession. Perhaps it was a natural response to suppressing his anger. Ever cautiously I dragged my leaden filled feet towards his vicinity, eyes downcast, body slightly shivering both from anticipation and fear for what's to come.

"Would you like to eat your treats now, Anna?" Came his sickly sweet voice. My breath hitched, lodged in my throat refusing to come out seemingly blocking the way for any voice to make an auditory appearance. His usually hard-as-steel eyes now bore the kindness that I thought I would never see again, his posture transforms from one of guard-stiff into a relaxed state. Even his movements, as he made a slow turn to face me, betrayed his usually threatening stance. His entire demeanor has morphed in that one single innocent inquiry set out before me. Little me didn't know what to do, this was a different side of him that has failed to surfaced for years now. It was completely unnerving.

Here he bent down at the waist just enough for him to offer the bucket to me, the faux smile ever present on his feature. Slowly I was drawn to his trance, putting me under a spell strong enough to let my guard down. Though I was still dubious of his intent. Little hands trembled as I reached for the outstretched bucket of sweets, equally trembling fingers were milimeters away from victory when my price was slowly dragged away from me.

"Un-uh, little one," he softly chastised, tone a playful mockery. His usually gyrating voice was then smooth as sandstone inviting others into its warmth, once again very unsettling. "You'll have to be a good girl first. Won't you be a good girl and close your eyes for me? We'll play a little game, alright? I'll pick out a candy and give it to you, then you'll have to guess what kind of cnady that is and if you get it right I'll give you the whole bucket! Sounds fun?"

By now there was a small smile playing at my lips, it wasn't the whole joyful ones that I used to gave him but it was there nonetheless along with the excited nod of my head. My heart thrummed loudly within its chamber, acting as a cauldron of emotions mucking up the once clear water. Fear, excitement, dread, glee all boiling into one uncertain concoction leaving my body tingling with its poison.

So I closed my eyes and waited...and waited. Then the pain arrived.

**I couldn't move, I couldn't see.**

It all started with the smack of a large palm across my head sending a ringing tune one that resembles the echo of a crash cymbal knocking me off my feet, further south a new instrument of pain was introduced in the form of a single kick to the stomach followed by a series of smaller ones as my already limp body lay weak on the floor, with the carpet rubbing me raw on my exposed skin as he continued his assault upon my person. Those kicks were applied in the same manner a drummer would set the base of the music on his kick drum, his hands never ceased to colour my body red with slaps equal in strength to that of a musician that handles a vibraslap. On and on the cruel treatment continues, the orchestra of torment crescendos into a cacophony of tremendous pain delivered to the lithe body of a young child that didn't buy a ticket to the show, yet there she was. Cowered on the floor crying silent tears, gasping for air that refused to properly enter her lungs as the maestro stood proud above her not showing any sign of ceasing his performance, looking down at his handiwork as if bowing proudly to his  **applauding audience.**

The bark of his laughter signals the end of the show. It felt like a milenia has passed before he concluded his assault, panting hard as if he had just went on a marathon. After a moment or two he strode out of the room leaving my bruised, beaten and battered body where he left it. The rain of sweets that enveloped me told me that he had scattered the treats all across my curled up body, the once tempting morsels looked bitter now. It was as if the lifeless things were mocking me in the face for falling into a trap so easily.

Still I lay there thinking of the event that had just occurred, not even the cooing sound of my mother – who arrived another milenia later – could rouse me from my pain induced stupor. I believe that night was the first night he truly hurt me, I could never forget the feeling of betrayal that I held for him that day. Truly it was a night fit for the ghouls and spooks to roam, I've got one living under the same roof I did to proof it.

How could he... He tricked me...

* * *

**Anna** **Ø** **stberg**

Fall.

Connecticut, United States of America

Østberg Mansion

* * *

The next couple of days saw me bedridden, recovering from the abuse my body had received. Odd enough the man responsible for pulrverising both my physical and mental being has disappeared for the duration of this time, I doubted he ever left the mansion or, at least, I could still feel his presence within the walls of the large house. Perhaps it was only my paranoia speaking.

Mother has gone off to work for the day leaving me in my lonesome, finding a childlike adventure to entertain myself with was a hard chore considering the condition my body was in. I gingerly touched my side and winced at the sting of pain letting out a quiet whimper. The aftermath of that unfortunate event was quite gruesome, my face slowly regained its usual colour from the bright red it acquired by my father's unholy slaps, there were bruises galore dotting across my torso and even some light scratch marks along my arms. I'm well enough to walk around without feeling too much pain yet my mother insisted that I remain home-bound until the marks of abuse at least faded away some more.

"No need to bring in attention when not needed," she had told me, "I can handle this, I promise my dear."

As of right then, I was bored stiff. Cartoons could only hold the boredom at bay long enough before I grew bored of them. Still wary of his presence I tip-toed around the house making my way towards my mother's room. Yes, my mother's, not my parents.

I don't blame her for wanting to move away from their shared bedroom and into her own, I couldn't imagine anyone willing to sleep on the same bed as their abusers. You must wonder why my mother hasn't made any attempt at terminating this butchered marriage of hers, truth be told: she has. I've heard her try to bring up the issue with him quite a handful of times, most of her attempts were met with a quick dismisal or another round of argument. So why was he so adamant at keeping her around when all he does was brought upon wave after wave of agony to her? Very simple really, we, humans, are greedy little things. We drool at the idea of being wealthy beyond our wildest imagination, we work hard to achieve the near impossible some of us willing to do degenerate things to climb to the top. So you see, the wealth that surrounds me did not belong to my father. Rather it was owned by my mother, inherited from her parents who built a company that works with the government. I won't go into the details of it, I'm sure it will bore you.

Another careful step has made me trespassed the threshold of my matriarch's quarters. Teal eyes scanned about the area as I hummed along trying to figure out just where the heck did she hide all those sweets?! Surely a brightly coloured bucket couldn't be hard to spot, but alas my eyes failed to locate the item I seek. Tapping my chin in thought I started thinking of all the possible hiding spots that she might have used, such as underneath the bed!

A grin lit up my face at the thought, quickly yet carefully scrambling over to the large bed and duck down to all fours. A light whimper escaped me unexpectantly as I felt a pinch down my torso at the abrupt movement, taking a moment longer to catch my breath before I, much more warily, lowered my head to ground level. A frown quickly found it's way to my features upon discovering that there were nothing but old shoe boxes, random knick-knacks and dust bunnies hidden within the dark.

I popped up to a standing position with a huff, scratching my head as I thought of where else might she hide my treasures. I opted to go towards the cupboard opening the door as one would open the doors to a grand ballroom, immediately I was met with a rather unpleasant scent of wood and warm clothing, the combination was unholy to my ole factory senses. The colour palette of the wardrobe almost made the faulty stench bearable, almost. Soft pastel colours dominated the shelving units, some designed with light patterns others merely the plain colour it was in, there were some blacks and greys but overall the colour scheme were pleasing to look at. Not a garish colour in sight except for the rounded orange plastic sitting at the very top of the shelf, it's face a grin as if inviting me – challenging me – to come and get it.

_Eureka!_  I thought standing on my tippy-toes in a futile attempt to reach for it despite knowing it's far too high for me to grab without help. Thinking quickly I all but shove my mother's vanity chair wincing at the extert put into moving the unbelievably heavy chair, with a loud "Oof!" my little body rested on its surface regaining my breath once more before hoisting myself upon it. Blasted, I was still a few inches too short! In a desperate attempt to retrieve the treats I started climbing the shelves despite my aching body's protests.

Little hands finally made contact with the treasure with a victorious grin stretching my face, a face that soon contorts to one of panic when the board beneath my feet gave way sending me careening towards the floor knocking the chair down along the way.

I let loose a very loud, very agonising screech of pain upon contact even though the floor was covered in the softest carpet known to mankind. The content of the halloween's bucket scattered about around me in an uncanny resemblance to that one fateful night, though this time I did not look upon the glaring coloured wrapping treats in distaste. Pain be damned! I was going to have my chocolate if it's the last thing I do. Sitting down with a grunt, I picked up a piece of sweet nearest to me and started to unwrap it placing the sweetened cocoa in my eager mouth. I let out a pleased humming noise, allowing the confections to coat my tongue before swallowing.

I was quick to grab, unwrap and consume another one indulging in its sickly sweet flavours. All woes seem to be forgotten in that one moment of childhood bliss, the mess that was my father's treatment seems like a distant memory. Not even the clutter presented right before me, in the form of a toppled over chair, a broken shelve in the wardrobe and a pile of clothes on the floor, could deter me from enjoying the long awaited moment.

Here's my treat.

* * *

" _We are all born the same, we are completely cute, innocent, sweet_  
and we need that reflection of ourselves as little human beings to live,  
and I was not receiving that from my mother but there was a caretaker  
who did give me that."

\- Anneke Lucas

* * *

_-End Transmission-_

* * *

**_Hey you,_ **

Heavens forgive me for the delay of this chapter.  
I apologize if this chapter upsets you, this was a rather hard one for me to compose.  
There are a couple more chapters similar to this one, but fear not!  
Cute ones are coming along as well!

Stick around? Your RRs (read and reviews are well appreciated.  
-  _ **S.O**_


	4. You Better Watch Out

**[** **SoS** **] You Better Watch Out**

* * *

**WARNING**

This chapter contains detailed descriptions of:

_Child abuse / Homicide / Gore_

Should you find such topic distressing, please avert your eyes  
and watch My Little Pony instead.

If you insist of reading on but wishes to not indulge in the gore,  
do skip the parts marked from " **bold** -to- **bold** ".

**YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED**

* * *

**Anna Østberg**

Winter

Connecticut, United States of America

Østberg Mansion

* * *

_He sees you when you're sleeping_

It's one thing for a father to check in on their sleeping child, ensuring that said offspring would remain comfortable and safe within their own chambers. Peaceful in their slumber without the look of distraught brought forth by a nightmare upon their face, nor would there be any foreign entity that has breached their room uninvited.

This fatherly instinct was not borne into my patriarch, though he made a habit to check in on me quite a number of times per night it was a decision not made out of worry nor was he securing my well being. If anything, he was ensuring my stay on the bed. Some nights, I believed he, was seeking an excuse to further place me under harm, one cold evening I dared a chance to crack open an eye and peek through the slit wide enough to give me vision of the man at my door. He appeared stiff, unmoving in his stance, shoulders wide and breathing uneven. The stench of alcohol was strong on him, the scent of the drunken state-inducing beverage smelt faint clinging onto his body like a vest yet it was strong enough to nearly made me wrinkle my nose in disgust.

I've been cautious enough to not get caught peeking or just plain trying – some nights, forcing – to sleep, yet in my cautionary procedure I was sloppy enough to get caught a handful of times. The lightest undeserving punishment I got was harsh spanks.

The worst of it happens this treacherously beautiful day.

It was like none other, with my mother busy occupying herself with office work I was left to entertain myself. Such a feat was easy to do what with the abundance of things to busy this little hands of mine, the plethora of activities presented before me left me spoiled for choices. I opted to spend the quiet afternoon by being by my mother's side colouring in a drawing of a scenery trying to remain as quiet as possible so as to not to disrupt her focus. Even our little dog, an adorable Samoyed puppy we named Hasher, was enoying the peaceful air, resting by the foot of mother's desk sleeping away quietly. The soft glow of the moonlight illuminated the spacious study casting a dreamlike atmosphere that accompanied the serene scene, it was a picture perfect moment. And all too soon it ended.

We've got no warning what-so-ever, not even the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps betrayed the intention its master harbored. My father was off working, said he was in a meeting and would be home later than usual that day but the god of mischief has heard his cue and sent him home early with a sour mood sure to follow his every step. The large door swung inwards slamming against the wall with an almighty crash revealing a man with a face so red he puts tomatoes to shame, he was so furious – livid, even! – so much so that I could practically imagine the red of his hair turning into fire that matched the flame in his heart. I don't know what set off such a mood, no one could ever guess what infuriated him so anymore. The man was practically a bucket a mystery that no soul dared touch for fear that they would burn down into ashes by the licks of his uncontrolable inferno.

"Torfin," my mother's voice broke through the tension, standing up ever cautiously as if fearing if sudden movement would enrage the man further. One of her hands outstretched towards him as if the motion alone could calm the beast as she skirts around the desk to stand between myself and her husband. "Whatever it is that upsets you, let's have a calm conversation regarding this-  _Torfin!_ " Mother's plea was cut short by the the jolt of movements her husband made, my father had rushed towards me and roughly grabbed me by the scruff of my shirt hauling my screaming body out of the study. Hasher has awoken from his slumber and barked up a storm following his family into the chaos.

Whimpering I reached up to grab the hands of the infuriated man trying to free myself of his grasp to no avail, I looked about my surrounding as the scene flashes all around me trying to figure out just where on this unholy earth was my father trying to take me to. To my horror we headed down towards the garage, already the image of being tossed out into the cold plagued my mind. A thousand and one scenarios performing its theatrical display in my mind's eyes further draining the blood from my face drawing me pale, heart pounding at the possibility that I won't have a home anymore. Whatever would a small child do out there all on her own?! You tell me.

At the brink of passing out I regained a fraction of conciousness when I realized that we weren't headed for the car, rather father had lead me towards a series of tall shelves housing tools and supplies. He dropped me to the ground unceremoniously pointing and glaring in my direction followed by a harsh demand to "Stay!". He did something then, something out of the movies I dare say, placing his body upon one of the shelves his strong arms pushed the heavy unit out of the way revealing a door that I've never seen before. True I've explored every nook and cranny of the mansion, but of course there were a couple of doors that I wasn't allowed to enter but never would I ever imagine that there would be a secret door hidden within the house.

My eyes were wide open in awe as he produced a key from within his jeans pocket and unlocked door revealing a dark passage to hell. I hadn't took notice then but there was the sound of rhythmic pounding of fist against door and a muffled scream and tiny dog barks, it would appear that my father had taken precautions and locked the garage door behind us giving him just enough time to reveal his lair. A deep chuckle snapped me out of my trance as fearful teal eyes snapped up to look at the man I still dare call father.

"Curious?" He questioned rhethorically, once more reaching down to grab me by my collar and proceeded to toss my little body, like an unwanted garbage, into the pitch black room. I landed in a heap of limbs on a surprisingly pristine floor snapping my head upwards towards the darkened room, before I could register what had happened in the short seconds after he chuckled the door behind me shut loudly plunging the cold room further into darkness. I whirled around then just in time to see the last sliver of light disappear. Adrenaline shot through my young body like never before giving me the strength I needed to lunge towards the metal door, pounding on it with all I've got.

I screamed and cried to be let out. I cried for my mother, I cried for his forgiveness for whatever I did to upset him, I cried for mercy. Following his unholy treatment of my person last October, he had taken a liking into taking his frustration out on me. Today, however, would mark the first time he has thrown me into his makeshift dungeon to be left in my lonesome. I ceased my desperate cry for help reducing myself into a sobbing mess as I slid down the door and onto the cold hard floor, I heard the sound of something heavy being dragged it doesn't take a genius to figure out that he had replaced the shelf onto its original place.

The sound of the receeding footsteps were followed by a faint click of a door being unlocked, then out burst the cacophony of headache inducing noises made by my mother and puppy. The yelling were muffled, through the body wracking sobs I strained to hear what the conversation was about. Perhaps I could figure out just why on this god given hell was I put in such a predicament. A yelped escaped me when I felt something touching my torso, next thing I knew a furry creature has graced me with its presence pressing his warm body against mine. I froze thinking it was a beast ready to devour me, I closed my eyes with a whimper waiting for my demise yet I found myself being gently licked in the face.

A gentle  _woof!_  brought me out of my fear, a fluffy head butted my arm as I finally cracked open an eye to see Hasher whining and whimpering as if to comfort me. I wasted no time in reaching forward and pulled him close for a big bear hug, I nuzzled my soaked cheek onto the top of his head crying into his pure white fur as he continued his soft whimpers. I only just noticed then, father had replaced the shelf to the front of the door, that's a fact that I dare bet my life on, yet how did Hasher manage to get into the room?

Little cold hands ran along the surface of the door carefully inspecting it until-  _Aha!_  There! How did I not see it before?! There at the bottom of the door was a smaller entryway made specifically for a small animal, said animal whined quietly when I released him to crouch low enough to get eye-level with the doggy-door. My eyes widened at the glaring light that came through the otherwise dark room, squinting to adjust to the sudden change I peered through once more trying to figure out this phenomena I was witnessing. Apparently the lower half of the shelf had its back cut out into a rectangle, obviously this was made by the previous owner of the house there was no way Hasher could fit into the small hole once he's gotten bigger! I moved my head this way and that trying to see if my parents were still around, the silence that befell the area should be clue enough that I was once again alone, present company not included of course.

I don't know how, nor do I have any knowledge on when, but I had fallen asleep for goodness how long, my body was stiff from holding onto the one position for such a prolonged period of time. The only soft thing I felt was the little bundle of fur lying against my stomach, Hasher's steady breathing matches my own. I softly patted him feeling quite drained from the day's event.

Suddenly the flap that concealed the doggy door lifted upwards on their own accord, naturally I screamed at the paranormal activity, clutching the once asleep puppy close to my chest. Said creature yelped in surprised at the sudden interuption of his slumber, he tried to struggle a bit before settling to bark madly towards the flap.

I cracked open an eye when I heard a  _clink_  of something softly being placed on the floor, there, on the spot right in front of the small opening, was a steaming bowl of soup. I screamed again.

"Soup spook, soup spook!" Fearful tears beginning to prick at my eyes once more, burying my face at the loudly whining Hasher. When his whine died down I heard a feminine giggle coming from the other side of the door, the hair on the back of my neck stood and goosebumps covered every inch of my skin.  _I died, I must have._

"No soup spook here darling," the voice spoke.  _Weird_  I thought, I had expected demons to sound like a burly man. When the suspicious soup spook spoke softly once more I felt a sense of comfort wash over me. "Just your mother delivering you your dinner." I released my death grip on Hasher depositing him next to me where he proceeded to groom at his messed up fur, I eagerly leaned forward reaching out to grab the flap so that I could peer through the hole and see the comforting face of my mother.

A little yelp was forced out of me when the flap lift up once more before I could grab it, this time I could see the hand that placed a plate full of assorted bread. I grabbed my mother's hand before it could retreat away, turning it over I placed her palm onto my face nuzzling tear streaked cheek on the warm hand. I heard a shaky inhale when the hand rubbed softly, comfortingly in slow circles.

"I'm sorry, my love," A whimper escaped me when the hand moved back to the light only to return a second later with a glass full of water. "Eat up, love. Before Hasher decides that the soup is his dinner." There was a soft sound of sniffing to my right, I turned my head just in time as Hasher poked out his pink tongue to lap at the warm broth. He whined when I waved a hand at him beckoning the pup to back away from my morsel.

Surprising steady hands picked up the warm bowl and started spooning the liquid into my mouth slowly, in a near instant I was awashed with feeling of warmth and comfort. A pleased hum filled the air at the first spoonful, quickly I finished my meal and handed the empty chinaware to my mother.

Using the sleeve of my shirt I wiped away the remnants of the dinner when once again the flap opens up, this time a pillow and blanket was deposited inside. "Can you set up a sleeping space, dear? Away from the door, just in case." I reached for the items and did just as told, placing myself underneath the unbelievably soft blanket with Hasher curling up at my side.

For the umpteenth time the flap opened, my eyes lit up and I let out a happy whimper when I saw the smilling face of my mother. I called out to her feeling hot tears blurring up my vision again, she hushed me then a gentle smile on her face as her own eyes glimmer with sorrowful tears.

"It's okay, I'll be here, my little typhoon. Sleep tight now, I'll see you in the morning. I love you."

"I love you too, mama." I pulled up the blanket close to my face. Mother started singing her signature lullaby, a single tear, the last of the night, fell down my face as I allow slumber to take me once more.

* * *

_He knows when you're awake_

_I really gotta go potty._

My little body shivered, not just from the cold or holding in the urge to relief myself, but the fear that father might still be awake at this hour to catch me. It's been a couple of days since I was locked inside that room – I still don't know what purpose the room serves – that undeserving punishment of mine only lasted 'til noon the next day. Here I find myself tip-toeing around my own home feeling like a prisoner trying to escape.

A quick scan of the area proves that no soul was present in the hallway, I ran towards the bathroom then and quickly lock the door behind me. After relieving myself I took one step out of the bathroom and felt cold dread spread across my being, to my left was the stairs that lead downstairs where I felt an ominous presence keeping a watchful eye on me. In a horror movie-esque way I slowly turned my head towards the stairs and felt the blood drain from my face at the sight before me. There, on the top landing of the grand stairway, stood my father. His form illuminated by the soft white light coming from downstairs giving me a view of his silhouette, his stance gave him a monstrous appearance; slightly hunched with his arms slightly spread out on his sides creating an arch, a stand that puts Quasimodo's to shame. His stance was threatening, very much so, but what terrified me most was the knife in his hand that glinted wickedly.

Math has never been my stronger suit, yet there I found myself using basic calculation to determine my probability to survive the inevitable. My room was a couple doors down to my right, running to my chamber would proof disastrous. He's faster than me, there was absolutely no way that I could outrun him! The only thing I could come up with was making a mad dash towards mother's room. It's still quite a distance away for these little legs of mine, however it was closer than my former option.

So off I went, with cold sweats running down my face. I could hear the loud  _thump thump thump_  of adult feet catching up to me at a rapid pace. I took a sharp turn going down the hallway that would lead to my matriarch's quarters, ducking away the corner just as his paw swiped to grab at me. He stumbled in his failed attempt giving me just enough time to continue my sprint and burst through mother's room, the commotion, of me slamming her door shut then locking it, apparently had awoken her. Mother let out a very unattractive squawk when I practically tackled her and scrambled to hide underneath her covers.

"Anna!" She tried to scold me but my fear of my father had won against my fear of her scolding, "Anna, calm down you-  _ack!_ " In my haste to put as much layers between me and him, I had unknowingly kicked her in the stomach. The poor woman grunted in pain, rubbing at the sore spot before trying to address me again, "Hey, you wild typhoon! What is it?" Came her clear-as-day voice, any traces of drowsiness not present within it. I must've literally shocked the sleepiness out of her. A series of loud banging sounded on the door making me yelp, further curling into a frightened little ball beneath the warmth of the duvet.

When a hand patted at my head I jolted a bit, reacting as if she had electrocuted me. The bed moved as she shifted off of it, I dare poke my head out of my hiding spot to look at her retreating body as she move towards the door to confront the man she used to love. That brave woman, where did all of her courage come from?

I heard the click of the door being unlocked and a sudden booming voice echoed into the night, " _Where is she?!_ "

"Calm down, Batman. She's asleep."  _That blasted wo-_ I mean, no- that's right, that blasted woman! How ever could she find the time and courage to mock him right in his seething face?! The bravado she performed was one to be admired, and admire her I did. My parents have enganged themselves into a series of hushed, heated argument, one that ended with him kissing the surface of the hard wood, a muffled yet loud " _Ow!_ " as my mother slammed the door to his face.

When she turned around her face was adorned with a look of satisfaction and pride, even the gait of her walk as she saunters over to the bed shows how prideful she was at successfully hurting her husband – albeit only inflicting minor pain. I giggled lightly when I saw her wink at me and watched her return to her position prior to the encounter.

"He deserved a broken nose, don't you think my dear?" She, herself, allowed a moment of mirthful giggle at the image of my father's face marred by a single scar across the bridge of his nose covered in quite the large bandage. Once her laughter died down she beckoned me to come closer, my smile grew wider as I obliged the silent demand curling myself up to her side.

Feminine hands begin their work on my back, running along its length in a soothing manner. Running gentle fingers along my scalp and down my copper mane, I hummed – pleased at the comforting motion. Motions that were soon followed by the ever welcomed lullaby that never failed to lull me to sleep. I yawned once, smacked my lips and fall into a contented slumber. She followed soon after my breathing evens out.

* * *

_He knows if you've been bad or good_

While I may be rambunctious I was rarely ever a naughty child, for my mother's sake I behaved both at school and at home for I know how much it kills her to see that her only daughter was getting the punishments that she doesn't deserve. I did nothing wrong, I swear it! All I did was watched the TV with the volume too loud by one level, that got me a good spanking and a visit to the cold dark room that I now call second home and nicknamed The Chiller. Father has made it a habit to toss me in there whenever his mood turns sour, it has gotten to the point where I don't see it as a threat any longer. Mother pleaded that I at least act scared whenever he would drag me in there for fear if I show any sign of willingness to endure the torment, his treatment would get worse. I complied thinking at least he didn't whip me.

Oh how wrong was I.

Progressing through the years his brutal treatments towards me grew relentless, his wicked mind kept on coming up with new ways to torment me with. When I reached 9 years old a new instrument of pain was introduced, to say the tool looked wicked would be wrong. It. Was. Villainous.

It was a whip, fit to be used for horses perhaps. The hard handle was made of leather soft enough for the handler to grip comfortably yet hold the firmness needed for the strenuous activity, it has 5 leather tongues that seemed to lick me with flame every time its unholy tendrils touched my body. To this day I still bare the marks left behind by the cruel whip and its master.

If memory serves the whipping began around the same time as when I noticed his change of routine, he was beginning to come home later and later by the day and when he did get home, he was seldom alone. Every other weekend a giggly damsel would always accompany his arrival, clearly she was inabriated to the point of blind compliance. Each time he was clearly all too eager to shove them into his quarters, the sounds that followed suit would leave mental scars to poor young me.

I was old enough to understand that he had been unfaithful, to her credit my mother didn't falter further into a pit of despair just like I imagined she would. Or perhaps she was being such a brilliant actress that her true emotion was not shown publicly, today I believe that she may have opted to suffer alone if only to spare her only daughter from distraught by seeing her mother cry. Once more, with quivering lips and trembling hands, she requested a divorce, such bravado was rewarded with two broken ribs, bruised lips and a twisted wrist.

Father had yelled something then before assaulting my mother, something rather curious now that I give it thought. In his most deepest voice and in such an ominous way he had harshly whispered to her, "Have you forgotten?" Of course I was far too stricken with worry and fear for my mother then, I didn't question him on the matter. I wouldn't have the courage to anyhow.

When mother left the hospital I had cautiously asked her, "Why doesn't daddy want you to leave?" Not a minute after the question left my curious lips I was struck with regret, tears glisten her eyes clouding the once bright orbs with a physical representation of extreme woe. I gently brought my hands around her neck and held on tight, whispering my apologies and a series of assurances that the inquiry need not be answered. Strong arms hugged me back, she gave me a small smile and a nod of appreciation at the gesture, the understanding that younger me had shown.

I've grown up too fast, far too fast for my liking.

* * *

 **Anna** **Østberg**

Winter. 24 December 2014

Connecticut, United States of America

18.28. Goodwin State Forest

* * *

"Son of a  _bitch_!" Down on that cold wintry day, a fresh powder of snow was tainted with blood as a man sat pathetically against a tree, sputtering and spitting both blood and a chain of curses. Brown eyes glaring at his assailant, a petite young woman that seemed over-dressed for the weather.

I was proud as I stood hovering over him covered from top to bottom with heavy winter suit, not a skin in sight. I think you'd be impressed at the way I looked back then standing over top a man that harboured the world's supply of hatred within that toned body of his. I was about as white as the scenery that surrounded me, coat, trousers, boots and even the googles and gloves I was wearing were white with hints of greys and blacks accentuating the design. I pulled at the furry hood further hiding the fiery mane atop my head, a billabong butterfly knife firmly grasped in my dominant hand whilst the other one clenches into a loose fist. Slightly trembling, the once pristine white gloves somewhat covered in splatters of blood. A bloodied hammer gently rocked in its holster upon my hip, I ran my finger along its head feeling the congealing blood collected on my finger. I growled low, pleased at the amount that I have gathered as I rubbed the now soiled appendage with a thumb coating them with the quickly drying plasma.

"Stand  _back!_ " The injured man spat, legs alight with flurries of hasty movement as he tried to scoot as far back into the tree as he possibly could. Why, all I did was take a step forward and yet there he sat and given me a reaction as if I was brandishing a sword ready to lop his head off. I smirked, victorious upon both seeing his reaction to her simple move and hearing his harsh whispered threat, " _I'm warning you..._ ".

"What will you do?" I took another calm step towards him, unable to move further back he opted to lift his head as if trying to get his face as far away from me as he possibly could. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I knew if I get too cocky he might turn the table on me. However, I couldn't help myself. After enduring the senseless torment he put me through all those years I allowed myself to stand with confidence before him, finally I was getting the upper hand. I savoured the feeling of power, its potent taste strong on my tongue. I held back the urge to slice him into pieces, feeling a surge of unimaginable strength course throughout my entire body. No wonder he enjoyed terrorizing others.

I couldn't see myself but I was sure that there was fire burning deep in my eyes as I glare daggers into fearful brown ones. Yes, fear. It was  _exhilarating_  to say the least that I had been the cause of such an emotion to surface on the once proud man, he was furious, this I was certain. Yet as the two emotions battled it out one emerged victorious with fear taking over the throne. There was a pregnant pause between my last words and his next ones, the space in those time frame was filled by the soft howls of the wind and the quiet ticking that seems to tick-tock away in my mind. I saw him shudder and adored the notion that the shudder was caused by anticipation and more fear. My grin was an evil one.

Not a single word was spoken as I took brave deliberate steps towers the battered man before me. Each slow step pulled me back to my memory bank, my mind's eye replaying the events that lead up to this point. One step brought me to the moment where I had helped mother prepare father's lunch, I had laced his gourmet sandwich with an absurd amount of Fluoxetine. Another step gave me the image of him shouting at the both of us for taking so long to make his lunch, I snarled but soon relaxed when mother's gentle hand rubbed my arm to soothe me. Step, I was back in my room gathering my winter gear into a bag. I went to my mother's room to leave a note that I've prepared the other night on her desk. A tear rolled down my cheek as another step reminded me of mother's soft skin pressed against my lips as I gave her cheek an affectionate kiss followed by the biggest, most loving warm hug I ever gave her before I finally leave the house.

Step. Winter gear: on. Not a lot of people were out and about today, the light snow-storm made sure everyone remained indoor. Everyone except for a handful of crazy people, including the white ghost of a woman riding her bicycle towards the forest I knew my father would have his lunch in.

Step. I was in the bushes, green-blue hawk eyes watched as the man slowly consumed the sandwich. Patiently waiting for the drug to take effect. It didn't even dawn on me why on earth would he take his lunch break at such a place in such a weather. I knew the cold doesn't bother him, what I didn't know was to what extend his tolerance to the cold would be.

Step. A blur of white as my feet rushed me deeper into the trees. The shadow of the forest, despite the trees lacking in leaves, masking any footprints made by its only two visitors, the dying ray of sunlight doing its best to illuminate the scene just enough for the father-daughter to weave their way to a more secluded area.

Step. My nose scrunched up in disgust as noises of flatulence and retching could be heard from his direction. I waited behind a tree patiently for him to finish expelling the content of his bowels and gut, tainting the forest floor with much and grime.

Step. Blind rage filled my being as I swung the flat side of the hammer across the back of his head, hard enough to leave him dazed yet soft enough to not damage his skull severely. I was nervous, afraid that my plan would go to the gutter. Yet as I saw his form crumple to the ground I allow wrath to guide my action. Blow after blow were landed across his body as I pummeled him to the ground.

Step. Final step, no more memories to replay. There can be no doubt now, I stood towering over him. Chestnut eyes still glaring daggers at me, perhaps imagining of a thousand and one ways to turn the table and have my own knife against me.

"Do you recognize me?" Even my own voice, lowered down and gravelly on their own accord as if participating and supporting the idea of ending the man's life, shows my malicious intent that day. I saw his body shudder once more, the glare he stubbornly glued to his face falters slightly giving more space for apprehension to show itself more prominently. I faltered along with him, giving one last thought to change my mind. Perhaps I have elicited enough fear within him to change his attitude towards his family somewhat, but then I remembered that this wasn't a Disney movie. No, I have planned for this day, anxiously waiting for its arrival, for weeks. I was not about to back down then.

"Do you. Recognize. Me?" I repeated my question when I was not met with any answer, the words seeping out of my clenched teeth. My hands shook holding back the urge to lunge forward and stab him senseless. This has to be perfect. Finally, after another moment of silence I was given a slow head shake, after taking a deep calming breath I tsk'd in mock disappointment.

I wanted so very badly for my face to be the last thing he sees before he meets his maker. After uttering a, "Shame," followed by, "- I was hoping that you will." I slowly lifted up my goggles and looked down at him proudly. A grinned etched across my face when he all but gawked at the person before him, the hand that had a death grip on his left broken calf slowly lifted and halted in mid-air. A look of utter disbelief colours his pale face.

"Anna," he breathed out as if uttering my name would confirm my presence there.

 **I lurched forth** , placing the tip of my blade dangerously close to his pulse point. My face mere inches from his shocked one, "You've been a bad boy," I taunted him, "Bad boys don't go to heaven. But you want to, don't you?" I leaned forward lining up my mouth so that it was adjacent to his ear. What I whispered to him sent his eye lids flying skywards. Suddenly he opened his mouth widely trying to scream out to the dead cold night, the sun now a mere memory as its rays give way to gentle hues leading to darkened blues. He succeeded in letting out the start of a scream before I side-stepped out of the way, away from his front, and drove my billabong into his throat. Gruesomely dragging the blade from the point of contact downwards in contempt before it came to a halt at his collarbone.

I had expected a waterfall of blood when I pulled the blade out, yet I was only met with a trickle of it. His slightly gaping flesh drooled ichor from its broken skin, I stood back watching. The glare had returned with intensity to his dying feature, they shone revenge and perhaps would swore on it had he had the ability to speak. His mouth opened once more trying to call out to me, instead of my name the dead of night was filled with the sound of him sputtering, choking on  **his own blood.**

The gale grew wildly making the branches of the trees shook with its intensity, appearing that the trees were cheering at the end of a tyrants life. I silently cheered with them as I turned about and walk away hoping that the growing storm would hide my footprints. I replaced my goggle upon my face as I slowly broke into a run, each few rushed step bringing me closer to realization.

Step. This is all over.

Step. This is victory.

Step. This new beginnings.

Step. A wide smile broke on my lips.

Step. A relieved tear rolled down my cheek.

Step. A new hope flared up in my thundering chest.

Step. Final one as I halted by my bike to catch my breath, the final step with a final realization that brought a surge of joy enveloping my being. The warmest of embrace in the cold of night. I gazed skywards at the rapidly growing wind and falling snow, spreading my arms out widely as if welcoming the chill. For once I didn't feel the cold, for once I welcome the frigid air, for once I allow the snow to kiss my sun-tan skin as I cried into the night and whisper softly at it.

" _This is liberty..._ "

* * *

"But what did you say to him?" I looked down slowly towards my current companion coming down from a high _._

 _That's right I'm still talking with this note-scribbling person._   _I don't even know their name!_

Placing my arms back at my sides after lifting them up to demonstrate my movement that one fateful night.

"What's that?" I inquired, mind still in a daze after reliving the freeing moment.

They lifted the pen up to point at me, "You said you whispered something to him, what exactly did you say?"

A smirk broke out of my lips, my eyes scanned the person's face judging his reaction to my story. They were well composed and poised in exterior, but his eyes betrayed a slight fascination he has with my tale. The smirk grew.

"Why, the very thing that he always said to me when I 'misbehave'-" I air quoted at the last word, "-the words ring in my ears irritatingly for I had heard it for years."

Grabbing the sides of my chair as best I could, I scooted forward so that I may clasped my hands like a sister would in a prayer on the table, rested my body on my arms as I leaned forward to whisper to them just as I had with my father, relishing in the growing fascination he had glowing in his eyes as I revealed to him the words that were spoken to me by that goblin.

"So be good, for goodness sake."

* * *

" _I will hurt you for this. I don't know how yet, but give me time._  
A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and  
suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you'll  
know the debt is paid."

\- George R.R. Martin,  _A Clash of Kings_

* * *

_-End Transmission-_

* * *

_**Hey you,** _

Suspicious soup spook spoke softly.  
Now there's a fun sentence to say, I dare ya to try and say that 5 times fast!

I've gone and edited the first chapter, it now has a more proper opening than the previous version.  
It's a short section and holds a piece of puzzle that's important to understand the future plot and  
pave a path to the ending. But you don't have to go back and read it.

Your RRs are quite appreciated!  
**-** _ **S.O**_


	5. Home in Their Arms

**[** **SoS]** **Home in Their Arms**

* * *

 

 **Anna** **Østberg**

Summer. Present Day.

Unknown State

Undetermined Location

* * *

 

“You metioned something about Fluoxetine?”

I shrugged, “Well, yeah. I mean, with all that shit I went through wouldn’t you fall too?” Their slow nod confirmed their understanding, quickly inscribing the new information down on their notepad. “I assume you know what that is right? I mean with you being.. you know,” I gestured to all of them vaguely, “-there’s just no reason that you shouldn’t- I’m sorryyy! No need to look at me like that!” Both hands flew up in a defensive pose at the death glare they threw me.

An exasperated exhale left them before those orbs they dare call eyes were glued to his notes once more. “What did you do then to acquire more when you went rogue?” They didn’t take their eyes off of the notes this time as they throw me the inquiry, the tip of the pen tapping at their chin lightly in thought trying to process everything that I have told them thus far.

“How did you know I went rogue?” The tapping ceased, black optics gazed up at me without them lifting their head. The void like eyes seem to draw me in, vacuuming the air around them along with every entity within its vicinity. I don’t know whether to be terrified or mistified.

“The letter, the heart-felt interactions with your mother, the packing- wait, no. You didn’t mention any packing involved except for your winter suit.” Here they marked their paper, crossing out a line that they had mistakenly wrote down, ending it with a pointed tap of the pen upon said paper. “Educated guess, I suppose.” They finished. “What did you do afterwards?”

I fidgeted in my seat, stretching out my legs a bit feeling them turn into dead weight from sitting for so long. “Well, I went back home.”

* * *

 

 **Anna** **Østberg**

Winter. 24 December 2014

Connecticut, United States of America

Østberg Mansion

* * *

 

The wind whipped by numbing what little skin was showing, I pedaled home fast as I could away from the scene. Haphazardly placing the bike by the driveway I made a quick dash towards my room and pack up all necessary items, I thank the heavens above that I lived in a mansion. Mother surely would still be trapped in the large house, I don’t need – _want_ – to see her before I made my escape.

I was a wanted criminal then, or at least convinced I would be, I couldn’t get her involved as much as it pained me to say goodbye to her earlier in the afternoon. A large backpack was soon filled with basic necessities, clothes, toiletries, electronics and chargers, medicines, wallet, keys... keys? _What purpose do you serve me now?_ The offending item was dangling between my fingers, the light reflected off of it slightly making it glinting at me as if challenging to go on, go ahead, put me down and say goodbye. I walked to the side of my bed, bag and keys still clutched in my hands.

I was too far lost in thought failing to hear mother call out to me from downstairs, wondering if I was home or not. I was still holding the object of my current fascination, twisting it this way and that as if examining a priceless artifact, when a knock sounded from my doorway, the chill that went up my entire body rivalled that of the cold I felt when I went biking earlier. I stiffly turn around to find two worried eyes staring at me and then to my stuffed backpack.

“Are you going somewhere? Far and for long by the look of that bag.”

“Uh...” _Shit, what do I say?! Clearly she hadn’t read the note I left her. Think, Anna, think!_ “Yeah! I, uh- was thinking that I might spend a few days at Ariel’s place.” _Nice save, me. Your brain works for once._ “Said she had something to show me so, you know,” I held up the bag as if the large thing wasn’t obvious enough, “- might as well.” I smiled to her, hoping that the story was convincing enough.

I started to fidget again when mother didn’t offer an immediate answer to my slight rant, she lifted her head up slightly to straightened herself and then nodded, giving me one of her beautiful small smile. “Okay,” she finally said before turning stern, “But you’re not going in this weather! I was about to scold you for doing so earlier, why didn’t you stay where you were until the storm died down?”

 _Mother dear, I love you but why do you always ask me questions that puts me in awkward situation?!_ “I was already on the road by then, there was no shelter nearby. I couldn’t just hop on some random people’s porch and ask to stay there until it goes away.” I gave her an equally awkward chuckle, hands going behind my back to interlace my index and middle finger together in a gesture of luck.

“Okay honey, dinner’s ready. Will you come down and join me?” She gave me a small smile and left when I returned it with a nod. When I was sure she was out of hearing range I let lose the loudest relieved sigh I ever made. A hand clutched at my chest dramatically, lowering myself to the floor letting my head fall back to the bed.

 _Dinner._ I thought, covering my eyes with one of my arms. The sleeve slightly soaked and chilled from getting exposed by the element earlier. I chuckled bitterly then let out a long exhale. _The last supper._

* * *

 

I was grateful when mother didn’t ask me anything about my adventure in the great snowstorm earlier, instead I entertained her more mundane questions. Though my heart was galloping at hundreds of miles an hours throughout the dinner, I surprised myself by remaining composed and calm. I didn’t even stutter once! That has got to be a new record.

Before dinner, I had rushed towards mother’s room and quickly snatched the note I left behind. Hiding the folded letter away in my pants’ pocket, I planned on placing it back on the same spot tomorrow morning after breakfast.

Remember Ariel? The spritely little redhead I met during my first day of elementary? Yeah, she and I became such close friends. We practically do everything together, the bond we share was unlike any other friendships I ever had. So, it was only natural that I go to her should I have any trouble.

That’s exactly what I did, once dinner was finished I excused myself to my room and picked up my phone. It didn’t even rung once before the call was picked up with a very enthusiastic, “Hi!”.

“Heyy, Air.”

“’Sup Fire. Got news? You sound down.”

I gave her a chuckle as a response, walking backwards to close and lock my door. “I’m alright, just bit sleepy.”

I picked up the sound of distant rustling from the other side of the line followed by a loud, “Oof!” and a content exhale, “You’ve got something to say though, I can tell.”

By the sound of it, I guessed that Ariel has flopped herself on her bed. I copied her doing just the same, after I remove all the offending winter wear of course – yes I had dinner in them, minus the coat. Shower will have to wait. “I do have this little something on my mind, but I’m not sure I’m ready to tell yet. I just,” a tired sigh escaped me as I mimicked my movement from earlier, draping an arm over my eyes. “I need distraction.”

There was a hum of understanding coming from her as she shifted on her bed some more, “I think I know how, come over tommorow?”

A smile crept up my lips as I let my foot dangle over the side of the bed and tap at the stuffed bag, “Already planning on it.”

“Great! See you then!” I bid her farewell and hung up the phone, the smile still present on my face and it never falters. Not even when a singular tear made it down my face. _Always could count on her._

* * *

 

 **Anna** **Østberg**

07.12am. 25 December 2014

* * *

 

Classic pancakes, eggs, bacon and coffee accompanied our breakfast that morning, I was once again draped beautifully with the then dried winter suit – again, minus the coat. A solemn expression blanketed my face unknowingly giving away my intention slightly, although she had mistaken it for another reason.

Eyes still downcast, emptily staring at the plate with half eaten food, I didn’t notice that mother had finished washing her own dishes and scamper around to dry her hands and walk towards me, enveloping me in an affectionate side-hug. I looked up and went slightly bug eyed.

“Um, mom?” The spoon, loaded with scrambled eggs – absolutely coated with pepper! -, was held mid-air stopped in their journey to reach my mouth. I slowly tried to turn my head to look at her but the woman had her face pressed on my shoulder.

“My sweet, sweet, wild typhoon. What has he done to you now?” An electric cold jolt filled my heart, it was like being shot with a frozen bullet. I gently lowered the utensil with a slight _clink_ when it made contact with my plate to place the same hand on my mother’s arm that was crossing my chest, I patted her there, giving her a smile that she could not see.

“Oh, mom.” I cooed, I was about to explain to her that he hadn’t done anything this time. But she had pulled away so suddenly and held me at arms’ length, eyes bugged out and a look of horror etched on her face.

“It’s why you’ve packed, isn’t it?” She all but whispered, a hand rose to her lips to conceal the pained gasped that escaped her. Her own greenish eyes glimmer slightly at the start of tears, “You- you’re- you’re planning to leave me, aren’t you? Going away and- and never to return!”

Well, it wasn’t the _exact_ reason why I wanted to run but she hit a home-run nonetheless, the chill in my heart only grew. “No! No, mom.” I quickly retaliated, grabbing her forearm that was still attached to my person, “I- I’m not going anywhere, okay? Just- just a few days at Ariel’s to spend time with her. That’s all! I-“ I’ve stopped myself, the realization of what I was about to say hit me like a grand piano on Wile. E. Coyote. _Promise? Do I really dare say that?_

It took me too long to finish my sentence, the hesistance creating one of the most unpleasing expression on mother’s beautiful face. My hold on her arm slackened as the creases of worry lines on her face deepens, I was at lost as to what to say. Could I really tell her a lie so great she might break down? No, mother doesn’t break down. She never does, not one bit. She’ll be fine without me... she has to. _Think, Anna, think!_

In a dramatic way I moved my hand, the same one that has been holding her arm, towards my chest. The movement jittery, making it look like I was holding back pain. I widened my eyes, slackened my jaw and breathe deep quiet breaths. The shaking hand slammed on my chest where my heart would be when it only has a couple inchest left to cover, a harsh gasp left me as I took a sudden deep breath. A series of fast paced inhales and exhales were taken accompanied by the occasional muttering and grunts of pain.

“Anna? Typhoon, what is it? Oh my, you’ve gone pale!” Mother’s voice grew an octave as she worried over me, both her hands now on my cheek rubbing circles to soothe me, “There now, breathe, my love, breathe! Nice and easy, there you go.” I obeyed her instructions, slowly getting my breathing in order. I dare gazed up to look at her in the eye and felt the familiar beginning of hot tears forming.

Clutching at my chest tightly, I took another gasp as my cheek was then covered in tears, “H-hurts..” and it wasn’t a lie, the prospect of what I was about to do to her, to this beautiful, strong and independent woman, was excruciating. It made my heart lurch painfully against my ribcage. “H-hurts so much,” I sobbed.

It was all an act of course, to throw her off of my stuttering trail but it works in my favour. Works too darn well. Tears kept flowing out of my eyes as I now openly sobbed onto her shoulders. She hushed, cooed and whispered sweet soothing words to me, holding me tight, running her hand on my head. The loving action only elicited more stronger cries out of me, both hands now clutching tightly on the back of my mother’s shirt, wrinkling them beyond recognition. I buried my face deeper into the crook of her neck, sobbing pathetically.

“Oh, sweetie,” her smooth voice brought out a whimper out of me, this was too much, “Let’s go to the doctor, okay? Have it checked, maybe it’s because you’ve gone biking in the dead of storm last night.” I shook my head, still buried on her neck, and held on tighter.

“Just,” A loud sob wrecked out of me, “I just n-need to take- to r-rest a bit.” Two sturdy legs held my posture up before I remember that I was meant to be “sick”. So I readjusted my posture, hunching ever so slightly and wobbled my legs. Judging by mother’s reaction, I’d say my performance was Oscar worthy. Wouldn’t you agree?

Mother started guiding me upstairs towards my room, yet I had other ideas. I tugged at her arm and directed to the other direction much to her confusion, when she understood what I had silently asked for she took the lead once more and opened the door when we reached it.

With pretend shaky hands I took off my trousers and fall on the bed, she started tucking me in when I shook my head no with the reason it being “Too hot,” she nodded, not even questioning the logic of it, the gentle woman folded the cover at the foot of the bed. She returned to my side, brushing stray hair out of my face and gave me a gentle kiss on the forehead. When she made to leave I grabbed her arm looking into her worried green eyes pleadingly.

“Please,” _Wow, my voice is so meek and small and pathetic._ I gulped, “Please, s-stay?” Tears still streaked down my cheek, though at a more laxed pace, I tugged at her arm once more showing just how much I want – I _need_ – her to stay by my side just a little while longer.

She complied almost immediately, placing herself to lay down right next to me and gather me into an embrace. I snuggled up right into her chest feeling her own steady heartbeat, I inhaled and allow for her scent to wash over me. Who knows when would be the next time that I would be able to indulge myself in it once more. One of her arms reached around and pulled me in tight before running the same hand on my hair, she gave me one more kiss atop my fiery mane. I returned said kiss on her collarbone.

“I love you,” I said through the tears, a mere whisper in the dark room. But she heard it loud and clear.

“I love you too, my little typhoon. So much,” Another kiss on the same spot on my head and she began humming her lullaby. I cried some more before allowing sleep to consume me.

It wasn’t a few minutes later that I found myself awake, still enveloped in mother’s arms. I peered up to find her deep in slumber, craning my neck to see the clock sitting on her bedside found that it was, in fact, one and a half hours that we’ve fallen asleep. Scooting myself away from the warmth of mother’s embrace, trying my best to not wake her, I tried to reach for my phone in my trousers’ pockets. The hot material of the item suggested that the screen had been left on when we’ve stumbled to bed earlier, a swipe of the screen proofed that a message and two missed calls had been made and all by the same person.

I groaned, looked at the time once more and opened the messaging app to tell another redhead that I would be late to her house, past noon perhaps, after lunch. That was the promise. I placed the phone gently beside the clock on the nightstand and returned to my prior position, snuggling up closer to the woman circling her midsection with my own arm. Her arm tightened around me and I smiled. In that one quiet moment I felt myself being dragged back by time, feeling my body shifted to the tinier version of me. Being in mother’s arms, the way that I did this noon, made me feel like I was five again. For here in her arms I am safe, I am home.

_I’m going to miss this so much._

* * *

 

By late lunch time I was gently awaken by the scent of freshly baked goods, the aroma was extremely alluring. I followed my nose all the way down towards the kitchen, mind you I had my trousers back on before I ventured down! Upon reaching my destination I was met with the scene of my mother, complete in her flour laden apron, humming away as she fiddles with something on the kitchen counter. The oven was turned on, a tray of cookies gently baking away. The aroma they permeated was heavenly, my mouth waters at the prospect of having a serving of those treats.

Mother swiped her brow with the back of her hand, she turned to face me when I knocked gently on the wood of the entryway. A smile on her face and sweat on her brows, it was just like I remembered it when I was little. “You’re awake,” she called, I merely nodded dumbly striding over to her to see that she was, indeed, making a certain delight. A guilty pleasure of mine.

“Is that...” I let the words linger, knowing full well that my mother understood what I wanted to ask, so says her smirk.

“Only your favourite, my love,” she chuckled as if in victory, the spoon and bowl she’s been mixing with were slided towards me and I drooled even more at the content of said bowl. I inhaled the scent and immediately swooned.

“Mmm,” I groaned, “Peach cobbler,” a spoonful of the concoction disappeared into my mouth. The heavenly taste of sweet and silky smooth peach coated my tongue further sending me to Valhalla. I heard my mother chuckle and stole the bowl back, I whimpered slightly at the loss.

“I see you got better,” she felt for my temperature by placing the back of her hand first to my forehead and then to my neck, “Temperature’s gone normal too,”

“Ow!” The nerve! She had struck me right on my forehead, I rubbed at the sore spot and glared at her.

“ _That_ was for biking in the storm in the first place! And look what it did to you!” her tongue clicked as she tuttet, waggling a lone finger at me like every mother would chastise a child. I merely offered her a shy smile and a nervous chuckle.

When we’ve finished baking we sat down for lunch where we once again found ourselves chatting away at mundane topics, that is until mother decided it was a good idea to brought up my reason for packing.

“Mother,” I nearly chocked on a small piece of rigatoni pasta, “Do you want to make me sick again?” I gawked, hoping that was enough to qualm her inquiries of my planned departure.

She shook her head, “I’m sorry, darling,”

“No no, it’s not your fault,” I held up a hand to stop her from sinking further down, “I told you mom, I’m just going to spend some time at Ariel’s. I’ll be back,” _You gonna keep that promise?_ My chest tightened at the thought, I tooka  shaky breath to rid myself off it.

There was uncertainty in the look of her eyes when she looked up at me, she was judging, gauging me, seeing whether I was telling the truth or not. Mother knows, mothers always knows when her children are telling lies. Don’t they? Curse this super power!

“Okay then,” she finally manages with a small nod and returned to her meal. I gulped, the food on my own plate doesn’t look as appetizing as before. I poked at a piece of pasta and let it fall back into the sauce. “Oh!” She suddenly exclaimed, making me snap my attention back to her. I swore I could hear the bones in my neck cracking at the abrupt movement.

Before I could question her about the sudden outburst she held up a finger and disappeared into the hallway, her movements were closely monitores by a pair of confused eyes. Said eyes blinked once, twice before slowly turning my gaze back towards the pasta. Each bite of the doughy Italian goodness makes me more curious, _what has she got up her sleeves now?_

My question was answered in a form of a small stampede made by a panting brunette. I looked back towards the doorway that lead to the halls to find my mother standing there with her arms tucked behind her back and a mischievous smile on her face.

“I almost forgot,” she spoke, sauntering towards me. I swallowed the mouthful I had and repositioned myself so that I was sitting down fully facing her, I was about to wipe my mouth with my sleeve when mother lightly smacked my hand away and glared at me disapprovingly. She pointed towards the box of tissues on the table, I pouted in mocked hurt and reached for one.

When I return my attention back to her, her once concealed hands came forth revealing a small box resting in the palm of her hands. It was cute, a little striped-green box with gold lined red ribbon. What a gorgeous little thing.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” I paled, how could I forget, Christmas! The look of horror on my face must reflect my current emotion and train of thought clearly as mother let out a small laugh. “You don’t have to give me anything back, I’m just happy to have you here.” Dainty hands pulled at one end of the ribbon and opening the box, if I thought the box alone was gorgeous imagine my surprise and awe when I beheld what’s resting within it.

There, glinting beautifully on a bed of velvet sheets, sat the most remarkable piece of jewelry I have ever laid eyes on. The chain alone would make for a wonderful accessory, it was silver in colour, rough to the touch and seems to be made out of crystal. The pendant had immediately caught my eyes with the way it shines marvelously, it was in a simple shape of a diamond – the kite one. It was three dimensional on one side yet on the other was flat, it has a silver backing to match the chains. The colour was mesmerizing, a gorgeous turquoise blue to match my own eyes and it glimmers enchantingly. If I thought the chains were made of crystals, I was convinced that the pendant was made of stars. 

Mother made a gesture for me to turn around, I obliged without a second thought. For a mere second I heard small rustling behind me before mother’s hands came into view, my eyes immediately glued to the pendant that dangles like a chandelier at night. A lone finger run across its smooth surface, feeling the intricate design of it along with the chain.

When I felt that my mother had clasped the jewelry properly I turned about again, showcasing her gift. She let out a small gasp and covered her mouth in awe. I looked up to her glistening eyes as she complimented me.

“They look good on you, darling, just beautiful.” She reached forth to feel at the accessory before running the same hand across my cheek, the very same cheek that housed a single tear I hadn’t realized I let lose.

What could I say? A simple “thank you” wouldn’t suffice, at least not to me it would. So I opted for a stronger term.

“I love you,” Mother wasted no time in pulling me in for a big bear hug, one which I returned happily.

“I love you too, my sweet little typhoon,” Her shoulders shook in a slight chuckle as I tightened my hold on her. My thoughts ran wild, mostly to the topic of father’s death and running away. Far, far away from her. From home.

_This is not going to be easy..._

* * *

 

I bid my mother farewell for what feels like the umpteenth time and apologized to her profusely for forgetting to buy her a present, an apology she quickly brushed off though I’ve made a silent promise to give her one once I settled down in my new place – wherever that may be. I’ve returned the note back at her desk in her chamber and skipped out of there faster than people march to a Black Friday event. One last hug, one last kiss, one last glance at the woman whom I’ve adored so much, loved so dearly and will miss with all my heart. My breaking apart heart.

I pedaled my bike as fast as I could towards Ariel’s house, I don’t plan to stay there for the night. I had to leave  town and away from the state as fast as I could, mother would surely read my note before dinner time. I didn’t want to have her find me at Ariel’s and begged me to return to her.

Then it dawned on me, she would be alone. In that big house, with no one else. A pang of guilt gripped at my heart, I fought tooth and nail to push the dreadful feeling back. I’ve done enough crying for the day! _Besides, Hasher would be with her. She won’t be completely alone!_ I tried to reason with myself, _and I know where she lives! I could- uh, get a job and send her money if she needs them. Yeah, that’s a good plan!_

Future scenarios, plans and whatnots made its presence known very clearly inside my mind. All sorts of possibilities, both bad and good, were weighed out in that short bike ride towards my close friend’s house. When I reached her abode I parked my vehicle by her fence and rushed to the front door, where she stood patiently waiting with a grand smile on her face.

“You’ve beat the storm! That’s gotta be a life achievement, right?” Not waiting for a response from me the spritely one beckoned for me to follow her, I was immediately greeted with the scent of warm vanilla. Her house is smaller than mine, still a mansion but nowhere as big as my father’s physical representation of fragile-masculinity.

“My parents are out for a couple day so we have the house _alll tooo ourrr selvesss_!” She sing-songed the last part, I dropped the heavy bag by the door and discarded the boots and jacket. I won’t need those for a bit. Ariel rushed towards a certain doorway that I knew would lead her to the living room, when I entered the cozy quarters the TV was already on with the speakers blasting the music to a very nostalgic game.

Naturally my jaws dropped at the sight or a familiar purple dragon standing in his proud stance, my companion was bouncing on the ball of her feet, clapping her hands full of glee. An index finger pointed accusingly towards the screen as I slowly turned my head towards the jumping jellybean.

I found myself repeating the same thing I did earlier in the afternoon, “Is that....”

“Yes!” In two huge strides she placed herself in front of me, grabbed an arm and dragged me over to the couch, before I knew it she tossed the controller over to me. I managed to caught the offending item, juggling it slightly as I failed several times. The cushion to my right bounced and dipped slightly at the sudden occupant that bounded on it. “Spyro Reignited Trilogy!” She exclaimed happily, “Come on, play it! ”

“No need to tell me twice!” I immediately got myself comfortable and hit start whilst she busied herself with a bag of chips. A few minutes into playing the game I stole a glance her way, an appreciative smile graced my lips at the same time she turned to look at me complete with a chip hovering inches away from her mouth, her smile matches my own.

“Working, huh?” I nodded, her smile evolved into a victorious smirk. “Good,” she placed the chip back into the pack and held me with one arm tightly, “You can always count on me, Fire.”

I nodded again returning the embrace allowing the familiar warmth of “home” in the gesture, turning my attention back to the screen once she retracted her arm to munch on the chip again. _Yeah, I know._

This was years ago...

* * *

 

“ _Love as powerful as your mother’s for you leaves its own mark,_  
To have been loved so deeply,  
Will give us some protection forever.”

\- J.K. Rowling

* * *

 

_-End Transmission-_

* * *

 

**_Hey you,_ **

This chapter wasn’t meant to happen...  
But alas, it did. It was dragging on to nearly 15  pages, so I decided to cut it in two.  
Yes, the Spyro Reignited was released during the writing of this chapter.  
I’m watching my friend stream it as I write! Such a nostalgic game...

Don’t worry, I promise you the girls will _finally_ meet in the next chapter!  
Remember though, if you’ve read the warning page, this is a s l o w b u r n.

On another note, I’m going to Miami this  Nov 29th!  
I’ll be working on a cruise ship for 6/8 months, give or take, so update will. be. slow.  
I can make it fast but the length will be sacrificed.

Hope you won’t mind.  
Leave an RR and have a good one!

**_\- S.O_ **

__P.S Fluoxetine is an anti-depressant. Or so my research informs me.


End file.
